Wings of a Martyr
by Aqua Lion
Summary: One Neopet will go to drastic lengths to help his neglected species. But there are no second chances on this path.


**Wings of a Martyr**   
_A/N- Rated for some language, and self-destructive themes, and fun stuff like that... you have been warned... oh, and at the time this was written, no pet named Kakouneji existed, so it can't very well belong to me._

No, don't go to Terror Mountain, they said. It's too cold, they said. You'll freeze, they said.   
I didn't listen. It's not so cold. Not so cold... as if anything on the _outside_ could be colder than the ice of my heart. I don't much notice it anymore. Even though the transition... the transition was so difficult... but now it seems so very normal.   
My family? Oh, of course I have a family... a kind, loving family, one many pets would give anything to have, I suppose. But I do not feel anything for them. I do not care, or if I do, I don't realize it. Of course I loved them _once_... once, but no longer. My downward spiral has taken me that far.   
The distancing was intentional. Necessary. I must have no obligations to this world. ...Obligations? What a damn joke! It is the world, it is Neopia which owes me...   
Beneath the feathers my wings are yet traced with scratches, scratches they never see. I cannot fault them for that. How could they tell? The feathers cover the wounds completely, and I do not bleed. All flesh and bone and muscle, as with the rest of my kind. It is difficult to find a place that bleeds. No need to. The pain is still there, with or without the blood.   
But it is pain that hardly can compare... to the pain on the inside. My constant attempts at tearing myself apart physically hardly serve to distract from the knowledge of _their_ neglect. I hold the bastards in charge of this place responsible, for it is they that have damned the Lennies forever.   
Yes, I am a Lenny. Surprised? Of course you are. Lennies are just those goofy-looking birds that everybody hates. They weren't even good enough to keep their Wooden Spoon Award.   
Damn the Krawks. I'd like to take one with me, where I'm going. But of course that is not possible. Difficult to find one of them, one of the thousand or so mixed within the millions of pets in Neopia. One thousand Krawks, three hundred thousand Lennies. And which species is better known, better loved?   
Which species do those bastards in charge give all the colors, all the attention? Of course, not the Lennies. Keep the Lennies down, and kick us while we're there—   
I'd actually held out some hope. I distanced myself, awaiting the inevitable. My caring, wonderful family was so very worried about me... but they finally believed me, my story about anticipation. Anticipating the Lenny Festival. And it wasn't entirely a fabrication.   
Then they went and screwed us over. One color, one! And orange? Who the hell paints their pets _orange_? And the Art Center couldn't even be bothered to release a Lenny poetry special until the Festival was over...   
And that was the end of my hope.   
That's why I'm here now, ignoring the protests of my loving family that I don't care about in the least. I was young and foolish when I was born. Few Lennies ever get born, and those of us who are instinctively know that we are the rare ones. Most Lenny eggs just lay dormant, unwanted, until the unborn bird inside just... dies. For the lucky few, a sense of optimism is perhaps understandable.   
My optimism died swiftly. I learned the extent of the ridicule, of the neglect, and realized that we Lennies have nothing to live for. And ever since, my entire life has been nothing but a descent. A plunge into the cold, into the darkness I stand in now.   
The forsaken ones, left to rot in the pound—they are the ones who turn to self-injury and eventually self-destruction. They are viewed as mere unfortunate casualties, but understandable. And unavoidable, there are just too many pets in Neopia for all of them to receive the loving care they deserve.   
Right.   
I'll be the first. The _first_, dammit! I have never heard of a pet with such an adoring owner as I have, taking the action I am about to take. But I will. They must take notice _now_. They must see what they have done. It will be impossible to miss.   
A martyr. I will be a sacrifice. The thought does not bother me—it is, after all, what I have been preparing myself for. It has all led up to this moment...   
I curl one wing around the dagger, the dagger that has caused all of these other injuries to my wings. I have always tried to avoid using the tip, even though the poison could not get into my bloodstream anyway... but now. Now there is no reason to hold back.   
My family... my family will be hurt. I am not sorry. They will recover. I do not care... this is more important. One owner and three other pets, versus three hundred thousand Lennies. Not a contest...   
This is my thought as I plunge the dagger straight into my throat. 

There. I've done it. There is plenty of blood here. The poison acts quickly... so very quickly... it is not so painful as I had expected, actually. Dammit! There should be pain. But I do not have the strength to tear the blade out.   
That's all right. If the lack of pain is my only regret, that is a good sign indeed.   
Isn't it?   
_ "Kakouneji?"_   
No. I'm not hearing that. Hearing things. It's the poison...   
_ "Kako, where'd you go?"_   
My owner is not calling me. And if she is, so what? I don't care. I don't care.   
_ "He's got to be up here somewhere!"_   
I'm not. I don't care.   
_ "Kako, please come out..."_   
No. Dammit. What am I doing? What've I _done_? I don't want to die. I don't... want to... die... but it's all getting hazy now... the poison...   
Is that a shadow? No... a hallucination...   
Somebody come help me...   
It's too late...   
I want to take it back. But of course I can't take it back.   
I want to reach out, to grasp my fleeing life. But my scar-covered wings will not move.   
I want to scream. But Lennies can't scream.   
That shadow. That shadow that isn't there, it's moving... towards me...   
_ "Kako!"_   
I _am_ sorry. I am. But the realization comes far too late.   
I am a martyr for the Lennies, but there is no longer any pride in it. I have thrown my life away...   
I don't want to die. But when the blackness comes... I embrace it. Anything to stop the uncertainty.   
They will find me here frozen. Perhaps passing it off as my freezing to death, in spite of the blood. A tragic accident. But just a Lenny.   
No one will ever know why... nothing will be left of my reasons. Nothing but the scars on the wings of a martyr. 


End file.
